


Slow Burn

by orphan_account



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Control, Established Relationship, Kink Meme, M/M, please don't look for a plot there is none, short fill, slight bondage if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 15:23:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4630281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Written for the prompt: "Childermass with his hands tied behind his back as he's sitting astride someone's lap, his hair all loose and in disarray as he moves against them, trying to set the pace even now.")</p>
<p>Childermass does not give up control easily, and Segundus is careful not to take advantage when he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow Burn

John gave an experimental tug at the restraints around his wrists, teeth worrying his lower lip when he found that, indeed, they weren’t budging.

 “You keep your hands above your head Mr Segundus,” Childermass drawled, his voice low and more gravelly than usual. “Or else I’ll be going downstairs for the evening and you’ll be sleeping alone.”

John’s eyes widened and he knew Childermass, knew that despite the wolfish grin on his face, Childermass meant every word. He moved his arms back, resting them above his head, against the mattress.

Childermass said nothing, returning to his clothing. His coat, waistcoat and stockings had been abandoned some time ago, his cravat cleverly used to bind John’s wrists. As Childermass tugged his shirt over his head, John felt decidedly overdressed, even just in his night shirt.

“Childermass.” He whispered hoarsely, watching the other man as he stripped off the rest of his clothes, his legs spreading automatically as Childermass kneeled between them on the bed.

Childermass pressed a finger to his lips, quieting any pleas or protests, then followed it with his mouth, kissing him hard and desperate. John could taste ale and allspice and tobacco smoke. He moaned into the kiss, arching his body up, demanding more, begging for anything.

Childermass’ hands were everywhere all at once, slipping up under his nightshirt to press against his thighs, up over his hips to his stomach and then higher still, thumbs brushing against his nipples and drawing another soft moan from his lips, nightshirt hiked up higher and higher until it bunched around his chest.

“Childermass, please,  _please_.” He gasped when the kiss ended, eyes dark and pupils blown wide. His legs spread further, but Childermass only laughed at this, deep and rough. It sounded more like a growl.

John’s hips pressed upwards, trying to force more of his cock into that delicious, wet heat, but those hands were back, holding him down.

It was messy, sloppy, all spit and moans, Childermass’ hair falling forward to hide his face from John as he worked up and down on his cock. John arched his back again, his own lips parting in gasps and soft cries littered with pleas for  _more_  and  _oh, yes_  and  _Childermass!_

One of Childermass’ hands left his hip, moving down and just out of John’s sight. John closed his eyes, for all he couldn’t see he could certainly imagine. Childermass’ hand around his own cock, stroking it in time, hips rutting against the mattress until neither one of them could stand it anymore and Childermass finally took him hard and fast and deep. John’s toes curled just thinking about it.

Childermass slowly moved his mouth away from John’s cock, slick as it was with spit, it made a wet _pop_  when free of his lips. Childermass laved his tongue around the head, almost obscene in his shamelessness, and John felt his face heat from how much he enjoyed the sight.

“Childermass,” He begged, digging his heels into the mattress as he tried to press up against him. “Childermass take me,  _please_!”

That grin was back, wide and full of teeth.

Childermass slid his hands under John’s knees, then pushed his legs together.

“W–what?” John stammered, flushed and confused, but Childermass moved quickly, his knees on either side of John’s hips, hand tight around John’s cock and guiding it carefully as he leaned back and down.

“Oh god save me, Childermass!” John cried out, biting his lip almost to break skin as Childermass pressed himself so very slowly down onto his cock, his eyes never leaving John’s.

Childermass’ hands slid into his sweat damp hair, pulling it back and away from his face, eyes falling closed as he rolled his hips, lifted them, sank back down. A ragged groan tore itself from John’s throat, his heart fluttering wildly in his chest.

He wanted to free his hands, to run them all over Childermass’ body, guide his hips up and down as he thrust into him. He remembered Childermass’ threat, and kept them were they were, nails digging shallow grooves into the wood of the headboard.

Childermass began to move, rolling his hips again, setting a maddeningly slow pace and he rose and fell, eyelids fluttering and head lolling back, scattering his dark hair over his shoulder and across his face.

John thought again of freeing himself, of pushing Childermass back down against the mattress, legs hooked over his shoulders so John could fuck him, headboard slamming against the wall and Childermass screaming his name.

His hips jerked up, demanding to be heard. Childermass sucked in a hiss of air, eyes open and looking down at John.

John smiled and forced his hips up again. Childermass bit off a sharp cry, the back of his hand pressed against his lips.

John canted his hips and thrust up hard into Childermass, watching victorious as the man leaned forward to brace himself against John’s chest. They moved together, fast and desperate, Childermass fucking himself down as John thrust his hips up faster and faster, wanting more, wanting deeper, wanting to tear screams and moans from the man riding his cock.

Childermass’ nails dug into his chest, his name “John,  _John, **John**._ " repeated over and over like a prayer. John’s throat was hoarse and raw, half-screamed moans and ragged cries spilling from his mouth, eyes clenched tight at first and then opened so he could see, so he could watch Childermass fall apart.

Dark waves drenched with sweat fell around his head, clung to his face and neck, shoulders hunched as he tried to hold on, ever needing to be in control. His body clenched tight, muscles taught and mouth slack as he came, darker eyes fluttering open to watch half-lidded as John followed him over with a scream of his name.

They panted together, chests heaving, neither of them in a hurry to move.

"Childermass.” John whispered, reverently, and the spell was broken.

**Author's Note:**

> Partial fill for the kinkmeme prompt: "Childermass with his hands tied behind his back as he's sitting astride someone's lap, his hair all loose and in disarray as he moves against them, trying to set the pace even now.
> 
> Hey, he does spend all lot of time looking dashing while on horseback. This seemed a logical next step."


End file.
